


My Muse

by celeszono



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, danganronpa v3 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Talentswap (Dangan Ronpa), Kokichi plays the piano, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Pianist Kokichi, Piano, anthropologist shuichi, astronaut gonta, detective keebo, no one actually dies though, shuichi also plays the piano, tsumugis talentless LMAO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeszono/pseuds/celeszono
Summary: After the death of the Ultimate Astronaut, Gonta Gokuhara, Kokichi needs a distraction from the world. Luckily for him, his lab had just been deemed acceptable to allow people in it.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	My Muse

**Author's Note:**

> my friend sent me a picture of a pianist kokichi a while back, and i wanted to write something with that,,, and then i thought about anthropologist shuichi so take this!! for reference, kokichi is the ulitmate pianist, keebo is the ultimate detective, shuichi is the ultimate anthropologist, gonta was the ultimate astronaut and tsumugi forgot her talent. gonta was a victim while tsumugi was a blackened, and kokichi and gonta were best friends so his death hurt kokichi a lot. also a little bit of background for kokichi as a protag: i imagine him similar to makoto. he likes helping others, along with pulling pranks with the people closest to him. hes a friend of everyone, no matter who they are. he'll boast about his piano playing, but in a way it's similar to info-dumping.

Up until this moment, Kokichi Ouma had believed he was an optimist. His free moments were spent with others, whether it be encouraging them or cracking jokes. But now, he couldn't bring himself to. Not after yesterday.

The body discovery announcement of Gonta Gokuhara, Ultimate Astronaut, had been the first time in a while Ouma had to force himself to smile. Usually, Ouma's smiles were genuine. He enjoyed smiling, it reminded him that he still kept a sliver of his sanity. And now, that smile was gone. Tsumugi Shirogane, who had yet to reveal her ultimate talent, had murdered Gokuhara in cold blood. And that wasn't even the worst part; Shirogane's execution was completely morbid. Everytime the pianist closed his eyes, he could still see his friend's cold body on the floor of the library. The image haunted him, and it refused to let him sleep.

Ouma enjoyed naps; they allowed him to forget about the present to go off in a separate reality. However, in times like these, naps were not the go to. The boy had been in his dorm, lying on the bed with his arms dangling off the sides of it. Although, he soon sat up. The pianist wanted a distraction, and it was in that moment he remembered everyone was assigned their own lab. Now, when he and the ultimate detective, Keebo Iidabashi, had first found his lab, the Monokubs explained it was under construction. However, it didn't hurt to look.

The short boy stood from his spot on the bed, adjusting his scarf and walking out of his dorm. He waved to a few people he recognized on the way out, specifically Iidabashi themself. Soon enough, his feet brought him to the academy. God forbid that he actually wanted to go back in there, but his lab laid waiting for him. And so, he cautiously walked into the building.

For the most part, the building itself was empty. Although some of the leaves and bushes that had been planted around were now gone, allowing more of the floor to be present. Suppose they'll start cleaning the academy. The boy hummed as he walked, thinking to himself. His violet irises darted around different rooms as he traveled to the first floor, taking note that the red vines were still covering the windows. Some things might just never change. It wasn't that the boy minded it really, it just confused him a bit. There was no need for vines to block the windows, they were surrounded by a large dome. No one could leave even if they wanted to.

That was what disturbed Ouma the most. There was no way of escaping the academy. Not with bombs, not by breaking the glass. Nothing could be their escape route. Part of Ouma prayed that he'd run into someone, anyone to talk to. Although, he had made it to the first floor without bumping into someone. The purplette sighed, adjusting the hair in the back of his head. He enjoyed having his hair in a ponytail, it made him happy. Much to his surprise, his lab opened up swiftly. A sense of joy rushed through him, cracking a small smile as he rushed into the lab.

There stood a brown grand piano, detailed with purple and white piano notes and stripes on the legs. There wasn't a speck of dust on it either, in fact it was in perfect condition. If it weren't for being trapped in a murder school, Ouma would have been laughing with joy. Although, he was in a murder school. He kept his excitement down to a medium, hopping over to the piano. His violet eyes took in every little detail, noticing the sheet music that had already been prepared. "Claire De Lune - Debussy." A classic in Ouma's eyes, truly. The keys had been labeled too, which was convenient. There was one specific person Ouma had wanted to share his piano privileges with. However, he had not seen said person since the Trial. Because of that fact, he wouldn't know where to find him.

Said person was Shuichi Saihara, Ultimate Anthropologist. Alongside Gokuhara, Ouma had spent his free time with Saihara and learned he always admired people who played instruments. Specifically, the piano. Now, Ouma couldn't tell if Saihara was aiming to compliment him or simply had an interest in music, but Ouma desired to show him how to play piano. That was one of his only goals for this academy, if he lived long enough that is. Ouma assumed the Anthropologist was in his room, having been quite silent for most of the Trial. He must have been overwhelmed.

That was another thing, when he first asked to hang out with Saihara, the taller boy explained how being alone with his thoughts ultimately make him feel overwhelmed and anxious. And to that, Ouma offered for Saihara to come find him whenever he needed to cool off. Saihara's face gained a soft red shade at the offer, and politely accepted. It made the pianist wonder how long it'll take for the anthropologist to go to him when he feels nervous. After that, Saihara and Ouma split ways and they greeted each other at the Trial. After the Trial, however, Saihara disappeared.

It worried the boy. Obviously, he knew he shouldn't care for anyone he just met but that was just a part of his nature. He loved being around people, it made him feel more human in a way. Although, now was not the time to be thinking of Saihara. Even though it was a decent distraction, the boy wanted to spend some time playing piano. So, Ouma stretched quietly before sitting down on the bench. He hesitated a moment, only now noticing how odd the situation was. With the condition of the school, the piano shouldn't be in perfect condition. Nonetheless, the boy brushed the thought away and placed his fingers on the keys.

His hand traveled across the piano, enjoying the slightly out-of-tune noises that played from it. The purplette allowed himself to get lost in the comfort of the piano, reflecting on past events. It saddened him, his mind already traveling to the many memories he had with Gokuhara. The spaceman's special interest was always the stars, going as far as lifting Ouma up to see them better. There were times where Gokuhara let the shorter boy borrow his glasses. Ouma's eyesight was never that great, but he refused to see an eye doctor about it.

Then, there were times where the two would just sit under the stars. Gokuhara loved pointing out different constellations and larger stars, while Ouma simply took those opportunities to relax. Everything was catching up to him, and before he knew it tears threatened to leave his eyes. He wouldn't let them, though. Kokichi Ouma does not cry. At least, that's what he told everyone. The pianist stopped for a moment, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Yes, crying helped let those bottled emotions fly free. However, Ouma hated crying. It made him feel pathetic, it made him feel like he would never accomplish anything anymore. Therefore, he forced himself to relax and continued to play. All while that happened, Ouma never noticed a figure standing in the doorframe of his lab. He forgot to close the door.

In said frame stood the ultimate anthropologist, Shuichi Saihara. He considered himself an observer, never really finding a need to interact with things he liked. The taller man stood with his arms crossed, the mask shielding his lower face the only thing keeping him from smiling. He admired Ouma's compassion, the way he always put 100% into everything he did. That type of thinking always amazed Saihara. He noticed the pause in Ouma's playing, standing up straight. The pause lasted for a minute or two, not long enough for him to break down but just long enough for Ouma to crack. No matter how hard Ouma tried, he couldn't always refrain from breaking. The academy was rough, so the taller boy couldn't blame him.

Soon enough, the music picked up again. It started from the beginning instead of where he left off, presumably because the pianist wanted more time with the piano. The purplette tapped away at the keys, unknowingly playing for a special audience. That was, until Saihara gently knocked on the doorframe. Ouma had tapped on the wrong note, being that the knock startled him. He quickly whipped his head around to notice the anthropologist.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything, Ouma-" Saihara mumbled, his hands folding in front of him. It was only now that the pianist noticed the elevation in Saihara's boots. A small detail that he never would have noticed. Ouma shook his head, standing from the bench. "No no, it's alright! Don't worry about it," the boy smiled as he spoke. Then, silence was brought against the two. Saihara clearly wasn't the best at keeping conversations, while Ouma wasn't the best at starting them. The taller boy cleared his throat before speaking out. "I suppose you enjoy your lab's piano?" he asked, slowly stepping into the lab. The way Saihara moved always amazed Ouma; he simply was a graceful walker.

"Oh, uh, yeah! It's a little out-of-tune, but I'm sure I can get that fixed."

"Ah, that sounds nice."

"What about you? Did you find your lab?"

"I have not, I assume it's in an area we cannot access at this moment."

Ouma nodded to that, tapping his food lightly as he stood next to Saihara. He thought of different things to do, before he was reminded of one of the only things he wanted to do.

"Saihara, you said you had an interest in piano, yeah?" Ouma asked, glancing over to the masked boy.

"I suppose I do, yes."

After that, the two sat in silence for a while. Ouma didn't really mind, the silence itself was comforting. Saihara had believed the opposite. In fact, the silence only made him anxious. The anthropologist messed with the ends of his sleeves- that was another thing Ouma picked up from spending time with him. Saihara always wanted something to fiddle with, possibly as something he could keep himself busy with. The pianist supposes it's a thing with staying comfortable under pressure. Now that he thought about it, there were moments during that trial where he could glance at Saihara, who would be messing with the ends of his sleeves. Or, he would have his hands folded in front of him, and he would twiddle his thumbs back and forth. Or he would have his arms crossed, but not in the aggravated way; his arms were crossed in a way that looked like he was almost trying to hug himself, yet not entirely give that part away. Ouma wouldn't blame him, trials are stressful. In fact, there was nothing more stressful to him. Not even performing in front of a live audience with 1,000 members of the crowd.

Ouma cleared his throat, glancing towards the instrument and then back at Saihara.

"Well... there's a piano right here-"

"O-Oh! No, it's quite alright. I am in no position to play your piano." Saihara declined, shaking his head hesitantly. Of course, there had always been a part of him that desired to play the piano, but he didn't want to intrude on Ouma's playing.

"Don't say that! It's perfectly fine, I insist," the smaller boy smiled, grabbing onto the other's arm and pulling him towards the piano.

"Ah, but, I-I don't know how to play the piano-!"

"That's okay! I'll teach you."

Ouma hummed as he pulled Saihara along, sitting down on the bench and patting the seat next to him. Hesitantly, the anthropologist sat beside the pianist.

"If you want, you'd be able to feel the keys better without gloves-" the purplette mumbled, glancing at the masked boy's gloves. He nodded in response, carefully pulling the gloves off his fingers one by one. It fascinated Ouma, everything Saihara did was with such care. Saihara didn't pull the gloves too hard because they were fragile, and he did not want to break them. Saihara walked quietly but swiftly because he did not want to cause a scene. Saihara spoke softly because he did not want to disturb the silence between others.

Ouma placed one of his hands on the keys, then gently took hold of Saihara's and put it next to his own. The ravenette's hands lightly shook as they were grabbed. It was clear they had not been without gloves for quite some time. "So, you just press down on the keys like this- they're labeled and everything," Ouma explained, tapping one of the keys as he explained it. Saihara hesitantly pressed the key next to Ouma's, his pale grey eyes staring down at it. He looked back over to Ouma for reassurance, to which the pianist nodded. It was made clear that Saihara had difficulty trying new things.

"Now, see on the pages, there's letters underneath the notes?" Ouma asked, pointing to the page of music notes. The anthropologist simply nodded, glancing at the page before back at the keys. "So, you just tap whichever key it says to," he smiled as he spoke, lifting his hand and waiting for Saihara to play. The page had been on a different song now. The boy sighed quietly, looking at the music notes before back down at the keys. He gently pressed them one by one, missing a few on the way.

"No, you skipped one. It's like this," the pianist explained, putting his hand on top of Saihara's and gently dragging it around the piano. The ravenette's eyes darted away from his hand, his face gaining a soft shade of red. Never in his life did he think he'd learn piano from Kokichi Ouma. Even so, the pianist seemed much more relaxed now. All sadness had left his face, and he seemed content to let Saihara play the piano. "Here, now you try-" the boy hummed, reluctantly letting go of the anthropologist's hand. The taller boy sighed, nodding quietly and replaying what Ouma had shown him. Although he barely paid attention to what was being said, he gently played the keys how they were supposed to. The noises that emerged from the piano were soothing, with Ouma soon finding a sense of comfort in them. It was because of this, he hadn't noticed his head resting on Saihara's shoulder. He mostly never acknowledged it because Saihara never pointed it out.

The anthropologist looked so focused when he played. His eyes left the music sheets to look down at the keys, then returned to the sheets. Truly, Ouma found it quite mesmerizing, the way he played. It almost felt like something tugging at his heart, something tugging the strings of a piano inside of him. It felt ethereal, almost as if that type of emotion never existed. Ouma never knew he'd enjoy someone else playing the piano just as much as he enjoys playing it himself. Even with the countless number of times he let Gokuhara play the piano as kids, it never felt quite like this. This time felt special, as if it had some sort of deeper meaning to it. Ouma was determined to figure out that meaning, no matter how hard it may be.

Soon enough, the song had ended and Saihara stopped playing. Ouma brought his head up, adjusting the scarf that wrapped around his neck. He soon stood, extending his hand. "Do youuu.. Wanna go to the dinning hall? There might be left-overs from breakfast," Ouma offered, a small smile resting on his face. Saihara couldn't bring himself to speak, so he simply nodded and accepted the hand. There were a lot of things Saihara hid from everyone around him. Most of which had been about himself; Saihara didn't enjoy talking about himself. But there wasn't a way he could hide the warmth of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> OK SO LIKE, this was written i think in november??? i originally posted it on wattpad, then tried to start an ao3 account (in which i forgot about the invitation), BUT i'm here now so that's swag. i'd also like to mention that the other song being played was "Reverie" by Debussy.


End file.
